


Tiger Balm

by fuckedupasusual



Category: It's Always Sunny in Philadelphia
Genre: Christmas, Christmas Movies, Domestic Fluff, M/M, Sick Fic, Tiger Balm, author wrote this when sick herself to cope, dennis is sick and whiny, with some angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-17
Updated: 2019-12-17
Packaged: 2021-02-25 21:49:36
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,782
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21832471
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fuckedupasusual/pseuds/fuckedupasusual
Summary: For most people, Christmas time meant: Mulled wine, Christmas songs, decorations and cheesy movies.For Mac, it meant: Ginger tea, heating blankets, a mopey Dennis and cheesy movies.
Relationships: Mac - Relationship, Mac McDonald/Dennis Reynolds
Comments: 2
Kudos: 42





	Tiger Balm

**Author's Note:**

> I had this idea when I was sick with a cold the other week. I'm not entirely happy with this but editing almost drove me mad and I wanted it to be published before Christmas. Also, I can't write fluff without at least a little bit of angst, sorry not sorry.

For most people, Christmas time meant: Mulled wine, Christmas songs, decorations and cheesy movies.

For Mac, it meant: Ginger tea, heating blankets, a mopey Dennis and cheesy movies.

Despite all precautions, because Mac always made sure they were living their most germ-free lives, Dennis had caught a nasty cold and was acting characteristically whiny. At all times, Mac tried to keep them both as healthy as he could, not only because it was the sensible thing to do (although Dennis himself wasn’t very good at that) and he hated germs, but also because he tried to keep Whiny Dennis at a minimum, at all times.

Taking care of someone was one thing when they were healthy. Dealing with them when they were sick (and they were Dennis) was a whole other thing.

The sickness had been keeping Mac busy for three whole days now. Busy meaning: running errands, running the bar, keeping Dennis’ nose from running, making tea and reheating the blankets.

“Are you trying to poison me? Goddamnit, how am I supposed to drink this stuff?” Dennis put his mug down, first glaring at the chunks of fresh ginger floating around in the water, then glaring at Mac.

“You need some more honey with that?”

“How much ginger did you put in there?”

“I don’t know, medium?”

“Medium? Medium many? What’s that even supposed to mean, Mac.” 

Mac sighed and turned his back to Dennis to lean on the kitchen counter. He knew how he got when he got sick and it never stopped being nerve wrecking as fuck after day three. 

Instead of trying to win this argument, he grabbed the bottle of honey and a spoon and walked over to the couch where Dennis lay, wrapped up in not one but two blankets.

“This movie sucks, put something else on.”

Mac refrained from rolling his eyes but it almost cost him his last nerve. He looked over to the TV screen where Hugh Grant was currently performing a very lame dance routine.

“Everyone’s british, I don’t even understand what they’re saying half the time,” Dennis complained and dramatically blew his nose over the soundtrack of the Pointer Sisters.

Mac sat down by his feet at the end of the couch and squirted a big dollop of honey into the mug on the table. He swirled it around with the spoon until it had dissolved completely and handed it over wordlessly.

Dennis shot him a look of disgust but took the tea nonetheless. Mac knew he liked to complain a lot but also secretly loved being taken care of. He just loved the Shakespearean drama of it all.

“Well, what DO you want to watch? We almost went through all of our DVDs”

“I don’t know,” Dennis mumbled and coughed into his pillow and rolled onto his other side, facing away from the screen and almost kicking Mac off the couch in the process.

Absent-mindedly, Mac started rubbing Dennis’ calves and tried to think of the best movie to watch under these circumstances. Eventually, he got up which earned him a grumble from the other end of the couch that sounded very much like a complaint.

“I’ll be back in a sec”

“Don’t you dare to put on that Muppet Christmas movie you tortured me with last year,” Dennis coughed into his pillow. Mac allowed himself one quick eye roll before he turned to the DVD player.

“No, relax. I haven’t forgotten the intervention you had the gang give me afterwards. I got the message, you hated it because of your childhood trauma or whatever”

Dennis shot up and turned around, “it wasn’t because of my childhood trau- I don’t even have that! It’s just stupid! And boring! And annoying!”

“Yeah, yeah. Keep telling yourself that. It’s actually awesome but no, that’s not what we’re watching now.”

He changed the CDs and walked back to the couch.

“Scoot”

Dennis huffed but pulled his legs up to his chest and wrapped himself up even closer into the blanket.

“Hey, leave some of that for me, you hogger”

“Well, you can’t have both - space AND warm legs. You either get your personal space on the couch or you get my legs with MY blanket. Suit yourself.”

For a moment, they stared at each other like cats about to pounce. But then Mac sighed and caved - like always.

“Fine, I’ll take the legs with a side of blanket, please”

Dennis couldn’t help but smirk which he tried very hard but very unsuccessfully to hide by turning his head towards the TV.

Mac picked up the remote from somewhere on the couch between their legs and pressed Play.

“You’ve got to be kidding me.”

“Oh, come on. I know you like this one.”

Dennis shot him a look that conveyed a variety of emotions but he didn’t complain and silently sipped his tea while “National Lampoon’s Christmas Vacation” started playing. Dennis would’ve never had admitted it to anyone but he did indeed like this one. Something about it resonated deeply with him. 

* * *

When the movie finished, it was long dark outside. Dennis had already been drifting in and out of the last 20 minutes, so much so that Mac had carefully taken the empty mug from out of his hands to keep it from falling to the ground.

Mac nudged him awake when the credits rolled.

“I think it’s time for bed, dude. You already missed the end”

“Did not,” Dennis mumbled unconvincingly with his eyes still closed.

“Yeah, big time. Come on.”

When Dennis still did not move, Mac pulled away his blanket. Dennis eyes shot open.

“What the fuck, Mac? I hate you!”

But Mac had already gotten up from the couch and folded the blanket away, looking smug.

“Keep yelling. It’ll only hurt your throat, you know”

Sadly, Dennis had to admit to himself that Mac was right and so, he dragged his tired body up and away to his bedroom. He figured, screw the nighttime routine, and instantly fell into his sheets.

\---

Just when he was about to drift off, a nasty cough started building up in the back of his throat. Forcefully. And in the span of a minute, it evolved into a full blown coughing fit and Dennis just did not have it in him to force his body to maintain some dignity and keep it quiet.

Mac was in his room within seconds (of course he was) and in his hands, he carried a small, round jar.

Dennis managed to catch his breath enough to look up, his face contorted into a question mark.

“Dude, you sound like you are dying.”

“I’m not dying, Mac. My body is just getting rid of the toxins. Better out than in,” Dennis rolled his eyes but was overcome by a new wave of coughing. “What’s that in your hand? I swear, if this is some weird lotion you and Charlie mixed up, I’m gonna punch you in the face and make you swallow it.”

“No, shut up. I- I saw it in a commercial the other day. This stuff is the tits. It has this badass name - tiger balm. And it’s this magic remedy. You just rub it on your chest and it’ll make you feel more better”

“...did you buy it because you thought it would give you tiger strength?”

“That’s not important, now. Here, let me…”

Mac opened the jar and a strong wave of menthol filled the room. 

“You are absolutely not going to rub that stuff on my chest, Mac.”

“No, seriously. It’s legit.”

Dennis tried to snatch away the jar from Mac but his arms betrayed him. His whole body suddenly felt incredibly old and tired and worn out. He sighed and sank back into his pillow, resigning to his fate. Fine, he wouldn’t let himself think about it in the morning, though.

Mac stepped a little closer and hovered over his body. He scooped out two finger tips of the balm but froze in place.

“Well? Are you just gonna stand there, trying to get high on menthol? You are not a cat, Mac.”

Mac shifted his weight from one foot to the other and looked down as if the floor was the most interesting thing he’d ever seen.

Dennis propped himself up on his elbows.

“No, it’s just…. You are supposed to put that stuff on your chest.”

“And?”

Mac quickly glanced up to the collar of Dennis’ shirt and that kind of was answer enough.

An unspoken “Oh” lingered in the room before Dennis’ mind snapped and he thought “fuck it” and pulled the shirt up and over his head.

The moment of uncertainty passed and Mac stepped closer and began rubbing the balm in circles to his chest.

Dennis closed his eyes. For one thing, because it was more relaxing (and the menthol started to burn his eyes)- but mainly, because it saved him from being _there_ in the moment. It was as soothing as it was soul-stirring and he already felt too exposed as it was.

The moment stretched out emotionally, when in reality, it was all over in the span of five minutes.

Wordlessly, Dennis put his shirt back on and pulled the sheets up to his chin. Without looking at Mac, he cleared his throat and whispered a small “thanks.”

“Yeah, don’t worry about it, man. You know I’ll take care of you.”

With that, Mac put the balm down on the nightstand and turned to leave. When he reached the door, he lingered for a moment too long before saying “Good night, Dennis.” It hovered heavily in the room, unanswered, and Mac closed the door behind him.

Dennis stared into the darkness of his room. He felt heat building in his chest but he couldn’t tell if it was the tiger balm or something… else.

Except… Except, he absolutely could tell. He recognised the feeling as something that only Mac could evoke in him. A feeling he often thought his mind had erased. But it had always been there, lingering in the back of his head, waiting to pounce. And pounce it did. In moments like that. Dennis understood it wasn’t his cold or his sore throat or the menthol making his skin burn. It was his love for Mac. And his skin felt hot, not from the balm but from the touch. A touch he longed for, now more than ever. So much that he almost called out for Mac. Almost. Even if he had managed to open his mouth, the words would not have come. He wanted to have it, to allow himself to have it all, too. But he didn’t know how to ask.

**Author's Note:**

> tiger balm is the shit, seriously! try it.


End file.
